


Talking to Myself

by Theincrediblesulkmachine



Series: SheithAngstWeek2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Day Two, Drabbles, Loneliness, M/M, SheithAngstWeek2018, burn - Freeform, forever late to the party, hallucination, late posts, musing about the desert, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theincrediblesulkmachine/pseuds/Theincrediblesulkmachine
Summary: All the ways that I keep losing you.





	Talking to Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Even though this is ridiculously short, i find myself pleased with the sting of this nevertheless.
> 
> Title (and summary) once again from Linkin Park's last album. It's beautiful in a tragic way, which is what i felt this ficlet kind of portrays. Hope you enjoy it too, and please, i'd love to hear what you think!

Keith finds the desert to be a uniquely beautiful place; it has a wild, untamed sort of perfection. There’s a sting to the light, a howl to the breeze, and an inimitable loneliness to the drifting sands.

Its deadly to the careless, and in all honesty, Keith admires the visibility of its venom.

The desert doesn’t lie.

It is what it is; no pretense, no politics.

Some days, the sun is a burn across the unforgiving blue of sky; a sear of flame and rust across the cloudless cerulean. _Those_ days when the light sears- intense in a way that distorts, warps; the days the other desert creatures know to avoid, Keith drives Shiro’s hoverbike to the edge of the highest cliff, and just looks out and breathes.

He finds it a struggle, most days.

Today is one of those days; merciless sun, and unyielding wind. Keith finds the hoverbike shuddering under his hands an odd kind of peaceful. It speaks to the loneliness within Keith, and this far out, he feels whole even amidst the debris of his life.

The desert has always felt like it was calling to him.

Once every now and then, it’s sweeter in its beckoning.

The desert doesn’t lie, but the human mind does.

Frequently, and well.

It’s the cruelness of impossible hope.

(And yet…)

Keith inhales, the biting sand binding him to the moment. A hand lands on his shoulder, familiar and well-worn like a favourite shirt, an oft-visited memory; it feels like home, more grounding than anything real that surrounds him.

Keith nearly cries, almost buckling to his knees under the imagined weight.

Instead, he closes his eyes, and leans into it.

“Keith.” A siren call more potent than all the power in the world; _Shiro_.

Helpless, always helpless to this particular lure, Keith turns and opens his eyes.

A vision in all senses of the word; sincere grey eyes, a charming smile and kind face, a beautiful face.

“ _Takashi._ ” He says, because he can. It’s only his own imagination, haunting him, taunting him in the sweetest, bitterest ways.

“Its good to be back.” Takashi says, and smiles.

It physically hurts to see, and Keith feels unwelcome tears well up in his eyes.

“Good to have you back.” Keith says back, soft, mournful.

Takashi looks at him like he sees him, like he loves him the way Keith always has.

( _Always will_ , the perpetual yearning in his chest reminds him; as if Keith ever forgets; ever _could_.)

The tears fall, blurring his vision, smudging Shiro from his sight. He blinks them away, rapidly, viciously.

It’s still too late.

The chasm yawns back open.

When his vision clears, Keith’s alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on tumblr, [@theincrediblesulkmachine](http://theincrediblesulkmachine.tumblr.com/)


End file.
